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“ Gluck . . . put out his head.” 


Frontispiece , 


THE KING OF THE 
GOLDEN RIVER 

OR, THE BLACK BROTHERS 
A LEGEND OF STIRIA 



JOHN RUSKIN, M.A. 

»i 


EDITED WITH INTRODUCTION AND NOTES 

By M. V. O’SHEA 

PROFESSOR OF EDUCATION IN THE UNIVERSITY OF WISCONSIN 


ILLUSTRATED BY SEARS GALLAGHER 


BOSTON, U S. A. 


D. C. HEATH & CO., PUBLISHERS 



53093 


y of Oon<;t"**8 
I '* f KtCEWCO 

SEP 28 1900 

Copyright entry 


StCt'MO COPY. 

Delivered tn 


0H0t« DIVISION, 

OCT 19 1900 


?Z % 

. ff <&<r/ 
\(L 

3 


Copyright, 1900, 

By D. C. HEATH & CO. 




TYPOGRAPHY BY J. S. CUSHING & CO., NORWOOD, MASS. 


ADVERTISEMENT TO THE FIRST 
EDITION. 


The King of the Golden River was written in 1841, 
at the request of a very young lady, and solely for her 
amusement, without any idea of publication. It has since 
remained in the possession of a friend, to whose suggestion 
and the passive assent of the Author the Publishers are 
indebted for the opportunity of printing it. 


* 




















































CONTENTS 


Introduction 


PAGE 

xi 


CHAPTER I. 

How the Agricultural System of the Black Brothers was 

INTERFERED WITH BY SOUTHWEST WIND, ESQUIRE ... I 


CHAPTER II. 

Of the Proceedings of the Three Brothers after the Visit of 
Southwest Wind, Esquire; and how Little Gluck had an 
Interview with the King of the Golden River ... 20 


CHAPTER III. 

How Mr. Hans set off on an Expedition to the Golden River, 

AND HOW HE PROSPERED THEREIN 32 


CHAPTER IV. 

How Mr. Schwartz set off on an Expedition to the Golden 

River, and how he prospered therein 43 

CHAPTER V. 

How Little Gluck set off on an Expedition to the Golden 
River, and how he prospered therein; with Other Mat- 
ters of Interest 49 


Note 


58 











LIST OF ILLUSTRATIONS. 


“ Gluck put out his head 11 Frontispiece 

The Treasure Valley ......... 3 

“ ‘ I beg pardon, sir,’ said Gluck ” 9 

“ Hans tumbled into the corner 11 15 

The inundation .......... 20 

“ A very odd mug to look at 11 . . . . . .22 

u i No, it wouldn’t, Gluck, my boy 1 11 27 

“ ‘Good morning, brother 1 11 34 

The Golden River ......... 35 

“ A curious expression about their outlines 11 . . . .37 

“ He . . . was raising it to his lips 11 . . . . *39 

“ A sudden horror came over Schwartz ” . . . .4 7 

“ He went to the priest 11 . . . . ... . -5° 

u i Thank you, 1 said the monarch ”... -53 



INTRODUCTORY. 


There have been written in our English language a few 
tales bearing a rich moral lesson that are an unfailing 
source of delight, alike to childhood and to youth, and that 
are at the same time not without interest to the adult. 
The King of the Golden River is one of these. It is so 
concrete and realistic, the story being carried forward so 
fully in the behavior of Gluck and Schwartz and Hans and 
the wonderful King, that the attention of children is held 
from beginning to end ; and there is delicately suggested 
all through so much of the philosophy of human life that 
older people find it awakens response in their own hearts. 
The story is charmingly told in Ruskin’s gracious style, 
which is a fit medium through which to convey the high 
ideals which he aims to present. I know of nothing which 
is better calculated to entertain and to exert a wholesome 
influence upon the young than this tale. Its lessons are 
not obtruded ; the reader is really not explicitly conscious 
of them at all. He simply accepts them as situations, un- 
usual perhaps, but yet he easily conceives that he might be 
one of the actors and perform such deeds as his hero does. 
And this it is that fashions conduct, — to have presented 
to one an ideal of action in such a way that it seems en- 
tirely possible in his everyday life, and is at the same 
time exceedingly attractive. 

There is nothing finer in children’s literature than the 
description of the heartlessness of the evil brothers in 

xi 


Introductory. 


xii 

their passion to get gold unworthily, and of the fate which 
ultimately and rightfully overtakes them ; or of the diffi- 
culties Gluck encounters in being considerate and chari- 
table at all times, and of the final reward for duty well and 
faithfully done. To the child the events happening in the 
ascent of the mountain are suggestive of definite, concrete 
actions which are presented to him in his own daily expe- 
riences ; to the more mature reader these typify the strug- 
gles which one has to undergo in order to do unto others as 
he would be done by. And to all there is suggested the 
inevitable penalty of greed and avarice and selfishness, as 
well as the reward of gentleness and fellow feeling and 
kindness to man and animals. If a teacher or parent will 
permit his children to read the story, saying nothing what- 
ever to them about it, he will discover how surely its scenes 
get wrought into their conversations and their plays and 
their games ; and he will then realize how effectively Ruskin 
has taught his lesson. 

Perhaps I may add that, according to my experience, 
the greatest benefit will accrue to children in reading The 
King of the Golden River , if they are not questioned over- 
much about it; the lessons are so concrete, so emphatic, 
that they do not need to be especially impressed by the 
teacher. When the dwarf tells Gluck that “ The water 
which has been refused to the cry of the weary and dying 
is unholy, though it had been blessed by every saint in 
heaven ; and the water which is found in the vessel of 
mercy is holy, though it had been defiled by corpses ; ” and 
when this truth and its outcome have been illustrated in the 
fate of the brothers, there is little else needed to implant 
it deeply in the hearts of those who read it. 

We should expect, of course, that The King of the Golden 
River on its literary side could well become a model for 


Introductory. xiii 

emulation by the young. And this is an important factor 
in children’s reading, since the most effective way to shape 
the language expression of a pupil is to lead him to imitate 
the language forms which are presented to him in his 
daily contact with people and literature. We have not in 
the past recognized this sufficiently in the teaching of 
English ; but I think we are coming now to see that after 
all formal teaching has less effect and the silent influences 
of suggestion have far greater effect than we have hereto- 
fore accorded them. With this thought in mind, some 
modifications of the original text have been made in the 
structure of the sentences and in punctuation to better 
conform to the rules which are commonly observed and 
taught in the schools to-day. The object has been to 
present in this concrete form models which the child may 
safely copy. 

How easily the art of reading would be acquired if 
children could get their practice upon such gems as The 
King of the Golden River ! The content is so enticing 
that no effort will be spared by the little reader to pene- 
trate the covering which conceals it. A squirrel enjoys 
the difficult process of gnawing through the hard shell of 
the nut for the sake of the prize within. So with the 
pupil; when he finds that the mastery of the technic 
of reading brings him rich rewards, the work is done 
with pleasure, and not only with pleasure, but with speed 
and efficiency. For after all a child does much more 
effectively those tasks that have a meaning for him, that 
lie in the direction of ends that are valuable to him. He 
makes a thorough part of himself all those agencies that 
assist him in appropriating more of the world, getting 
more goods for the soul as well as for the body. What we 
must do in reading, then, is to make the content attractive 


XIV 


Introductory. 


to the learner, and the drudgery of acquiring the means 
necessary to secure it will be robbed of much of its dis- 
agreeableness. For this reason The King of the Golden 
River will have a value not only for the lessons it teaches 
so effectively, but it will also afford excellent material for 
training in reading itself. 


University of Wisconsin. 
June, 1900. 


M. V. O’Shea. 


The King of the Golden River; 
or, The Black Brothers. 

CHAPTER I. 

How the Agricultural System of the Black Brothers was 

INTERFERED WITH BY SOUTHWEST WlND, ESQUIRE. 

In a secluded and mountainous part of Stiria 
there was in old time a valley of the most surpris- 
ing and luxuriant fertility. It was surrounded on 
all sides by steep and rocky mountains, rising into 
peaks which were always covered with snow, and 
from which a number of torrents descended in con- 
stant cataracts. One of these fell westward over 
the face of a crag so high, that, when the sun had 
set to everything else, and all below was darkness, 
his beams still shone full upon this waterfall, so 
that it looked like a shower of gold. It was, there- 
fore, called by the people of the neighborhood, the 
Golden River. It was strange that none of these 
streams fell into the valley itself. They all de- 
scended on the other side of the mountains, and 
wound away through broad plains and past popu- 
lous cities. But the clouds were drawn so con- 


2 


The King of the Golden River ; 

stantly to the snowy hills, and rested so softly in 
the circular hollow, that in time of drought and heat, 
when all the country round was burnt up, there was 
still rain in the little valley ; and its crops were so 
heavy, and its hay so high, and its apples so red, 
and its grapes so blue, and its wine so rich, and its 
honey so sweet, that it was a marvel to every one 
who beheld it, and was commonly called the Treas- 
ure Valley. 

The whole of this little valley belonged to 
three brothers called Schwartz, Hans, and Gluck. 
Schwartz and Hans, the two elder brothers, were 
very ugly men, with overhanging eyebrows and small 
dull eyes, which were always half shut, so that you 
could not see into them , and always fancied they 
saw very far into you . They lived by farming the 
Treasure Valley, and very good farmers they were. 
They killed everything that did not pay for its eat- 
ing. They shot the blackbirds, because they pecked 
the fruit ; and killed the hedgehogs, lest they should 
suck the cows ; they poisoned the crickets for eat- 
ing the crumbs in the kitchen ; and smothered the 
cicadas, which used to sing all summer in the lime 
trees. They worked their servants without any 
wages, till they would not work any more, and then 
quarrelled with them, and turned them out of doors 
without paying them. It would have been very 
odd if with such a farm and such a system of 
farming they hadn’t got very rich ; and very rich 


or, The Black Brothers. 


3 


they did get. They 
generally contrived to 
keep their corn by them 
till it was very dear, and 
then sell it for twice its 
value ; they had heaps of 
gold lying about on their 
floors, yet it was never 
known that they had 
given so much as a penny 
or a crust in charity; 
they never went to mass ; 
grumbled perpetually at 
paying tithes ; and were, 
in a word, of so cruel and 
grinding a temper, as to 
receive from all those 
with whom they had any 
dealings, the nickname 
of the “ Black Brothers.” 

The youngest brother, 
Gluck, was as completely 
opposed, in both appear- 
ance and character, to 
his seniors as could pos- 
sibly be imagined or 
desired. He was not 
above twelve years old, 
fair, blue-eyed, and kind 



4 


The King of the Golden River ; 

in temper to every living thing. He did hot, of 
course, agree particularly well with his brothers, 
or rather, they did not agree with him. He was 
usually appointed to the honorable office of turn- 
spit, when there was anything to roast, which was 
not often ; for, to do the brothers justice, they were 
hardly less sparing upon themselves than upon 
other people. At other times he used to clean the 
shoes, floors, and sometimes the plates, occasionally 
getting what was left on them, by way of encourage- 
ment, and a wholesome quantity of dry blows, by 
way of education. 

Things went on in this manner for a long time. 
At last came a very wet summer, and everything 
went wrong in the country around. The hay had 
hardly been got in when the haystacks were floated 
bodily down to the sea by an inundation ; the vines 
were cut to pieces with the hail ; the corn was all 
killed by a black blight; only in the Treasure 
Valley, as usual, all was safe. As it had rain when 
there was rain nowhere else, so it had sun when 
there was sun nowhere else. Everybody came to 
buy corn at the farm, and went away pouring male- 
dictions on the Black Brothers. They asked what 
they liked, and got it, except from the poor people, 
who could only beg, and several of whom were 
starved at their very door without the slightest 
regard. 

It was drawing towards winter, and very cold 


or, The Black Brothers. 


5 


weather, when one day the two elder brothers had 
gone out, with their usual warning to little Gluck, 
who was left to mind the roast, that he was to let 
nobody in and give nothing out. Gluck sat down 
quite close to the fire, for it was raining very hard, 
and the kitchen walls were by no means dry or 
comfortable looking. He turned and turned, and 
the roast got nice and brown. “ What a pity,” 
thought Gluck, “ my brothers never ask anybody 
to dinner. I’m sure when they have such a nice 
piece of mutton as this, and nobody else has so 
much as a piece of dry bread, it would do their 
hearts good to have somebody to eat it with 
them.” 

Just as he spoke there came a double knock 
at the house door, yet heavy and dull, as though 
the knocker had been tied up — more like a puff 
than a knock. 

“ It must be the wind,” said Gluck ; “ nobody 
else would venture to knock double knocks at our 
door.” 

No; it wasn’t the wind: there it came again very 
hard; and what was particularly astounding, the 
knocker seemed to be in a hurry, and not to be in 
the least afraid of the consequences. Gluck went 
to the window, opened it, and put his head out to 
see who it was. 

It was the most extraordinary-looking little gen- 
tleman he had ever seen in his life. He had 


6 


The King of the Golden River ; 

a very large nose, slightly brass-colored; his 
cheeks were very round, and very red, and might 
have warranted a supposition that he had been 
blowing a refractory fire for the last eight-and- 
forty hours ; his eyes twinkled merrily through 
long silky eyelashes, his moustaches curled twice 
round like a corkscrew on each side of his mouth, 
and his hair, of a curious mixed pepper-and-salt 
color, descended far over his shoulders. He was 
about four-feet-six in height, and wore a conical 
pointed cap of nearly the same altitude, decorated 
with a black feather some three feet long. His 
doublet was prolonged behind into something re- 
sembling a violent exaggeration of what is now 
termed a “ swallow tail,” but was much obscured by 
the swelling folds of an enormous black, glossy- 
looking cloak, which must have been very much too 
long in calm weather, as the wind, whistling round 
the old house, carried it clear out from the wearer’s 
shoulders to about four times his own length. 

Gluck was so perfectly paralyzed by the singular 
appearance of his visitor that he remained fixed 
without uttering a word, until the old gentleman, 
having performed another and a more energetic 
concerto on the knocker, turned round to look 
after his fly-away cloak. In so doing he caught 
sight of Gluck’s little yellow head jammed in the 
window, with his mouth and eyes very wide open 
indeed. 


or, The Black Brothers. 


7 

“ Hollo ! ” said the little gentleman, “ that’s not 
the way to answer the door: I’m wet, let me in.” 

To do the little gentleman justice, he was wet. 
His feather hung down between his legs like a 
beaten puppy’s tail, dripping like an umbrella; and 
from the ends of his moustaches the water was run- 
ning into his waistcoat pockets, and out again like 
a mill stream. 

“ I beg pardon, sir,” said Gluck, “ I’m very sorry, 
but I really can’t.” 

“ Can’t what ? ” said the old gentleman. 

“I can’t let you in, sir, — I can’t indeed; my 
brothers would beat me to death, sir, if I thought 
of such a thing. What do you want, sir? ” 

“ Want ? ” said the old gentleman, petulantly. 
“ I want fire and shelter ; and there’s your great 
fire there, blazing, crackling, and dancing on the 
walls, with nobody to feel it. Let me in, I say ; I 
only want to warm myself.” 

Gluck had had his head so long out of the win- 
dow by this time that he began to feel it was really 
unpleasantly cold, and when he turned and saw the 
beautiful fire rustling and roaring, and throwing 
long bright tongues up the chimney, as if it were 
licking its chops at the savory smell of the leg of 
mutton, his heart melted within him that it should 
be burning away for nothing. “ He does look very 
wet,” said little Gluck; “I’ll just let him in for a 
quarter of an hour.” Round he went to the door 


8 The King of the Golden River 

and opened it ; and as the little gentleman walked 
in there came a gust of wind through the house 
that made the old chimneys totter. 

“ That’s a good boy,” said the little gentleman. 
“ Never mind your brothers. I’ll talk to them.” 

“ Pray, sir, don’t do any such thing,” said Gluck. 
“ I can’t let you stay till they come ; they’d be the 
death of me.” 

“ Dear me,” said the old gentleman, “ I’m very 
sorry to hear that. How long may I stay?” 

“ Only till the mutton’s done, sir,” replied Gluck, 
“and it’s very brown.” 

Then the old gentleman walked into the kitchen, 
and sat himself down on the hob, with the top of 
his cap accommodated up the chimney, for it was a 
great deal too high for the roof. 

“You’ll soon dry there, sir,” said Gluck, and 
sat down again to turn the mutton. But the old 
gentleman did not dry there, but went on drip, drip, 
dripping among the cinders, and the fire fizzed, and 
sputtered, and began to look very black and uncom- 
fortable. Never was such a cloak ; every fold in it 
ran like a gutter. 

“ I beg pardon, sir,” said Gluck at length, after 
watching for a quarter of an hour the water spread- 
ing in long, quicksilver-like streams over the floor; 
“ may I take your cloak ? ” 

“ No, thank you,” said the old gentleman. 

“Your cap, sir ? ” 





14 ( 


I BEG PARDON, SIR,’ SAID GLUCK. 


M 




























i 
























































































' - 






. 












































or. The Black Brothers. 1 1 

“ I am all right, thank you,” said the old gentleman, 
rather gruffly. 

“But, — sir, — I’m very sorry,” said Gluck, hesi- 
tatingly ; “ but — really, sir, — you’re — putting the 
fire out.” 

“ It’ll take fonger to do the mutton, then,” 
replied his visitor, dryly. 

Gluck was very much puzzled by the behavior 
of his guest ; it was such a strange mixture of cool- 
ness and humility. He turned away at the string 
meditatively for another five minutes. 

“ That mutton looks very nice,” said the old 
gentleman at length. “ Can’t you give me a little 
bit ? ” 

“ Impossible, sir,” said Gluck. 

“ I’m very hungry,” continued the old gentle- 
man ; “ I’ve had nothing to eat yesterday nor 

to-day. They surely couldn’t miss a bit from the 
knuckle ! ” 

He spoke in so very melancholy a tone that it 
quite melted Gluck’s heart. “ They promised me 
one slice to-day, sir,” said he ; “I can give you 
that, but not a bit more.” 

“ That’s a good boy,” said the old gentleman 
again. 

Then Gluck warmed a plate, and sharpened a 
knife. “ I don’t care if I do get beaten for it,” 
thought he. Just as he had cut a large slice out of 
the mutton, there came a tremendous rap at the 


i 2 The King of the Golden River ; 

door. The old gentleman jumped off the hob, as if 
it had suddenly become inconveniently warm. 
Gluck fitted the slice into the mutton again, with 
desperate efforts at exactitude, and ran to open the 
door. 

“ What did you keep us waiting hr the rain for? ” 
said Schwartz, as he walked in, throwing his 
umbrella in Gluck’s face. “ Ay ! what for, indeed, 
you little vagabond?” said Hans, administering 
an educational box on the ear, as he followed his 
brother into the kitchen. 

“ Bless my soul ! ” said Schwartz when he opened 
the door. 

“ Amen,” said the little gentleman, who had 
taken his cap off, and was standing in the middle 
of the kitchen, bowing with the utmost possible 
velocity. 

“Who’s that?” said Schwartz, catching up a 
rolling-pin, and turning to Gluck with a fierce 
frown. 

“ I don’t know, indeed, brother,” said Gluck in 
great terror. 

“ How did he get in ? ” roared Schwartz. 

“ My dear brother,” said Gluck, deprecatingly, 
“ he was so very wet ! ” 

The rolling-pin was descending on Gluck’s head ; 
but at the instant the old gentleman interposed 
his conical cap, on which it crashed with a shock 
that shook the water out of it all over the room. 


or, The Black Brothers. 


*3 


What was very odd, the rolling-pin no sooner 
touched the cap than it flew out of Schwartz’s 
hand, spinning like a straw in a high wind, and fell 
into the corner at the further end of the room. 

“ Who are you, sir ? ” demanded Schwartz, turn- 
ing upon him. 

“ What’s your business ? ” snarled Hans. 

“I’m a poor old man, sir,” the little gentleman 
began very modestly, “ and I saw your fire through 
the window, and begged shelter for a quarter of an 
hour.” 

“ Have the goodness to walk out again, then,” 
said Schwartz. “We’ve quite enough water in our 
kitchen without making it a drying-house.” 

“ It is a cold day to turn an old man out in, sir ; 
look at my gray hairs.” They hung down to his 
shoulders, as I told you before. 

“ Ay ! ” said Hans, “ there are enough of them to 
keep you warm. Walk ! ” 

“ I’m very, very hungry, sir; couldn’t you spare 
me a bit of bread before I go ? ” 

“ Bread, indeed ! ” said Schwartz ; “ do you sup- 
pose we’ve nothing to do with our bread but to give 
it to such red-nosed fellows as you ? ” 

“Why don’t you sell your feather?” said Hans, 
sneeringly. “ Out with you ! ” 

“ A little bit,” said the old gentleman. 

“ Be off ! ” said Schwartz. 

“ Pray, gentlemen — ” 


14 The King of the Golden River; 

“ Off, and be hanged ! ” cried Hans, seizing him 
by the collar. But he had no sooner touched the 
old gentleman’s collar, than away he went after 
the rolling-pin, spinning round and round, till he 
fell into the corner on the top of it. Then 
Schwartz was very angry, and ran at the old 
gentleman to turn him out ; but he also had 
hardly touched him, when away he went after 
Hans and the rolling-pin, and hit his head against 
the wall as he tumbled into the corner. And so 
there they lay, all three. 

Then the old gentleman spun himself round 
with velocity in the opposite direction ; continued 
to spin until his long cloak was all wound neatly 
about him ; clapped his cap on his head, very 
much on one side (for it could not stand upright 
without going through the ceiling), gave an addi- 
tional twist to his corkscrew moustaches, and replied 
with perfect coolness : “ Gentlemen, I wish you a 
very good morning. At twelve o’clock to-night I’ll 
call again ; after such a refusal of hospitality as I 
have just experienced, you will not be surprised if 
that visit is the last I ever pay you.” 

“ If ever I catch you here again,” muttered 
Schwartz, coming, half frightened, out of the cor- 
ner — but, before he could finish his sentence, the 
old gentleman had shut the house door behind him 
with a great bang: and there drove past the win- 
dow, at the same instant, a wreath of ragged cloud, 





“ Hans . . . tumbled into the corner.’ 




or, The Black Brothers. 17 

that whirled and rolled away down the valley in 
all manner of shapes ; turning over and over in 
the air, and melting away at last in a gush of rain. 

“ A very pretty business, indeed, Mr. Gluck ! ” 
said Schwartz. “ Dish the mutton, sir. If ever I 
catch you at such a trick again — bless me, why, 
the mutton’s been cut!” 

“ You promised me one slice, brother, you know,” 
said Gluck. 

“ Oh ! and you were cutting it hot, I suppose, 
and going to catch all the gravy. It’ll be long 
before I promise you such a thing again. Leave 
the room, sir ; and have the kindness to wait in the 
coal-cellar till I call you.” 

Gluck left the room melancholy enough. The 
brothers ate as much mutton as they could, locked 
the rest into the cupboard, and proceeded to get 
very drunk after dinner. 

Such a night as it was ! Howling wind, and 
rushing rain, without intermission. The brothers 
had just sense enough left to put up all the shutters, 
and double bar the door, before they went to bed. 
They usually slept in the same room. As the clock 
struck twelve, they were both awakened by a tre- 
mendous crash. Their door burst open with a 
violence that shook the house from top to bottom. 

“ What’s that ? ” cried Schwartz, starting up in 
his bed. 

“ Only I,” said the little gentleman. 


1 8 The King of the Golden River; 

\ 

The two brothers sat up on their bolster, and 
stared into the darkness. The room was full of 
water ; and by a misty moonbeam, which found its 
way through a hole in the shutter, they could see 
in the midst of it an enormous foam globe, spin- 
ning round, and bobbing up and down like a cork, 
on which, as on a most luxurious cushion, reclined 
the little old gentleman, cap and all. There was 
plenty of room for it now, for the roof was off. 

“ Sorry to incommode you,” said their visitor, 
ironically. “ I’m afraid your beds are dampish ; 
perhaps you had better go to your brother’s room : 
I’ve left the ceiling on there.” 

They required no second admonition, but rushed 
into Gluck’s room, wet through, and in an agony of 
terror. 

“ You’ll find my card on the kitchen table,” the 
old gentleman called after them. “ Remember, the 
last visit.” 

“ Pray Heaven it may ! ” said Schwartz, shudder- 
ing. And the foam globe disappeared. 

Dawn came at last, and the two brothers looked 
out of Gluck’s little window in the morning. The 
Treasure Valley was one mass of ruin and deso- 
lation. The inundation had swept away trees, 
crops, and cattle, and left in their stead a waste of 
red sand and gray mud. The two brothers crept 
shivering and horror-struck into the kitchen. The 
water had gutted the whole first floor ; corn, money, 


or, The Black Brothers. 


l 9 


almost every movable thing had been swept away, 
and there was left only a small white card on the 
kitchen table. On it, in large, breezy, long-legged 
letters, were engraved the words : — 




Of the Proceedings of the Three Brothers after the Visit 
of Southwest Wind, Esquire; and how little Gluck had 
an Interview with the King of the Golden River. 

Southwest Wind, Esquire, was as good as his 
word. After the momentous visit above related, he 
entered the Treasure Valley no more ; and what was 
worse, he had so much influence with his relations, 
the West Winds in general, and used it so effectu- 
ally, that they all adopted a similar line of conduct. 
So no rain fell in the valley from one year’s end to 
another. Though everything remained green ’and 
flourishing in the plains below, the inheritance of 
the Three Brothers was a desert. What had once 


20 


21 


The King of the Golden River. 

been the richest soil in the kingdom became a 
shifting heap of red sand ; and the brothers, unable 
longer to contend with the adverse skies, abandoned 
their valueless patrimony in despair, to seek some 
means of gaining a livelihood among the cities and 
people of the plains. All their money was gone, 
and they had nothing left but some curious, old- 
fashioned pieces of gold plate, the last remnants of 
their ill-gotten wealth. 

“ Suppose we turn goldsmiths ? ” said Schwartz 
to Hans, as they entered the large city. “ It is a 
good knave’s trade ; we can put a great deal of 
copper into the gold without any one’s finding it 
out.” 

The thought was agreed to be a very good 
one ; they hired a furnace, and turned goldsmiths. 
But two slight circumstances affected their trade: 
the first, that people did not approve of the cop- 
pered gold ; the second, that the two elder broth- 
ers whenever they had sold anything used to 
leave little Gluck to mind the furnace, and go and 
drink out the money in the ale-house next door. 
So they melted all their gold, without making 
money enough to buy more, and were at last 
reduced to one large drinking mug, which an uncle 
of his had given to little Gluck, and which he was 
very fond of, and would not have parted with for 
the world; though he never drank anything out of 
it but milk and water. The mug was a very odd 


22 The King of the Golden River; 



mug to look at. The 
handle was formed of 
two wreaths of flowing 
golden hair, so finely 
spun that it looked more 
like silk than metal, and 
these wreaths descended 
into and mixed with a 
beard and whiskers of 
the same exquisite work- 
manship, which sur- 
rounded and decorated 
a very fierce little face, 
of the reddest gold im- 
aginable, right in the 
front of the mug, with a 
pair of eyes in it which 
seemed to command its 
whole circumference. It 
was impossible to drink 
from the mug without 
being subjected to an 
intense gaze out of the 
side of these eyes ; 
and Schwartz positively 
averred that once after 
emptying it full of Rhen- 
ish seventeen times he 
had seen them wink ! 


I 


“A VERY ODD MUG TO LOOK AT.” 


or, The Black Brothers. 


2 3 


When it came to the mug’s turn to be made into 
spoons, it half broke poor little Gluck’s heart; but 
the brothers only laughed at him, tossed the mug 
into the melting-pot, and staggered out to the ale- 
house, leaving him, as usual, to pour the gold into 
bars, when it was all ready. 

When they were gone, Gluck took a farewell 
look at his old friend in the melting-pot. The flow- 
ing hair was all gone ; nothing remained but the 
red nose and the sparkling eyes, which looked 
more malicious than ever. “ And no wonder,” 
thought Gluck, “ after being treated in that way.” 
He sauntered disconsolately to the window, and 
sat himself down to catch the fresh evening air, 
and escape the hot breath of the furnace. Now 
this window commanded a direct view of the range 
of mountains, which, as I told you before, overhung 
the Treasure Valley, and more especially of the 
peak from which fell the Golden River. It was 
just at the close of the day; and when Gluck sat 
down at the window, he saw the rocks of the 
mountain tops all crimson and purple with the 
sunset. There were bright tongues of fiery cloud 
burning and quivering about them ; and the river, 
brighter than all, fell in a waving column of pure 
gold from precipice to precipice, with the double 
arch of a broad purple rainbow stretched across it, 
flushing and fading alternately in the wreaths of 
spray. 


24 The King of the Golden River; 

“ Ah ! ” said Gluck aloud, after he had looked 
at it for a while, “ if that river were really all 
gold, what a nice thing it would be.” 

“ No, it wouldn’t, Gluck,” said a clear metallic 
voice, close at his ear. 

“ Bless me ! what’s that ? ” exclaimed Gluck, 
jumping up. There was nobody there. He looked 
round the room, and under the table, and a great 
many times behind him, but there was certainly 
nobody there, and he sat down again at the window. 
This time he did not speak, but he could not help 
thinking again that it would be very convenient if 
the river were really all gold. 

“ Not at all, my boy,” said the same voice, 
louder than before. 

“ Bless me ! ” said Gluck again, “ what is that ? ” 
He looked again into all the corners and cupboards, 
and then began turning round and round as fast 
as he could in the middle of the room, thinking 
there was somebody behind him, when the same 
voice struck again on his ear. It was singing now 
very merrily, “ Lala-lira-la ; ” no words, only a soft, 
running, effervescent melody, something like that 
of a kettle on the boil. Gluck looked out of 
the window. No, it was certainly in the house. 
Upstairs, and downstairs. No, it was certainly 
in that very room, coming in quicker time and 
clearer notes every moment. “ Lala-lira-la.” All 
at once it struck Gluck that it sounded louder near 


or, The Black Brothers. 


25 


the furnace. He ran to the opening, and looked 
in : yes, it seemed to be coming not only out of the 
furnace, but out of the pot. He uncovered it, and 
ran back in a great fright, for the pot was certainly 
singing! He stood in the farthest corner of the 
room for a minute or two with his hands up and 
his mouth open, when the singing stopped, and the 
voice became clear and distinct. 

“ Hollo ! ” said the voice. 

Gluck made no answer. 

“ Hollo ! Gluck, my boy,” said the pot again. 

Gluck summoned all his energies, walked straight 
up to the crucible, drew it out of the furnace and 
looked in. The gold was all melted, and its sur- 
face as smooth and polished as a river ; but instead 
of reflecting little Gluck’s head as he looked in, he 
saw meeting his glance from beneath the gold the 
red nose and sharp eyes of his old friend of the 
mug, a thousand times redder and sharper than 
ever he had seen them in his life. 

“ Come, Gluck, my boy,” said the voice out of 
the pot again, “ I’m all right ; pour me out.” 

But Gluck was too much astonished to do any- 
thing of the kind. 

“ Pour me out, I say,” said the voice, rather 
gruffly. 

Still Gluck couldn’t move. 

“ Will you pour me out ? ” said the voice, 
passionately, “ I’m too hot.” 


26 The King of the Golden River; 

By a violent effort Gluck recovered the use of 
his limbs, took hold of the crucible, and sloped it 
so as to pour out the gold. But instead of a liquid 
stream there came out, first, a pair of pretty little 
yellow legs, then some coat tails, then a pair of 
arms stuck a-kimbo, and, finally, the well-known 
head of his friend the mug; all which articles, 
uniting as they rolled out, stood up energetically 
on the floor, in the shape of a little golden dwarf 
about a foot and a half high. 

“ That’s right ! ” said the dwarf, stretching our 
first his legs, and then his arms, and then shaking 
his head up and down, and as far round as it would 
go, for five minutes without stopping, apparently 
with the view of ascertaining if he were quite 
correctly put together, while Gluck stood contem- 
plating him in speechless amazement. He was 
dressed in a slashed doublet of spun gold, so fine 
in its texture that the prismatic colors gleamed 
over it, as if on a surface of mother of pearl ; and 
over this brilliant doublet his hair and beard fell 
full halfway to the ground in waving curls, so 
exquisitely delicate, that Gluck could hardly tell 
where they ended ; they seemed to melt into air. 
The features of the face, however, were by no 
means finished with the same delicacy ; they were 
rather coarse, slightly inclining to coppery in com- 
plexion, and indicative, in expression, of a very 
pertinacious and intractable disposition in their 











‘“No, IT WOULDN'T, GLUCK, MY HOY.’ ” 






or, The Black Brothers 


29 


small proprietor. When the dwarf had finished 
his self-examination, he turned his small sharp 
eyes full on Gluck, and stared at him deliberately 
for a minute or two. “ No, it wouldn’t, Gluck, 
my boy,” said the little man. 

This was certainly rather an abrupt way of com- 
mencing conversation. It might indeed be sup- 
posed to refer to the course of Gluck’s thoughts, 
which had first produced the dwarf’s observations 
out of the pot ; but whatever it referred to, Gluck 
had no inclination to dispute what he said. 

“Wouldn’t it, sir?” said Gluck, very mildly and 
submissively indeed. 

“ No,” said the dwarf, conclusively. “ No, it 
wouldn’t.” And with that the dwarf pulled his 
cap hard over his brows, and took two turns, of 
three feet long, up and down the room, lifting his 
legs up very high and setting them down very 
hard. This pause gave time for Gluck to collect 
his thoughts a little, and seeing no great reason 
to view his diminutive visitor with dread, and 
feeling his curiosity overcome his amazement, he 
ventured on a question of peculiar delicacy. 

“ Pray, sir,” said Gluck, rather hesitatingly, 

“ were you my mug ? ” 

On which the little man turned sharp round, 
walked straight up to Gluck, and drew himself 
up to his full height. “ I,” said the little man, 
“ am the King of the Golden River.” Whereupon 


30 The King of the Golden River; 

he turned about again, and took two more turns 
some six feet long in order to allow time for the 
consternation which this announcement produced 
in his auditor to evaporate. After which he again 
walked up to Gluck and stood still, as if expecting 
some comment on his communication. 

Gluck determined to say something at all 
events. “ I hope your Majesty is very well,” said 
Gluck. 

“ Listen ! ” said the little man, deigning no 
reply to this polite inquiry. “ I am the King of 
what you mortals call the Golden River. The shape 
you saw me in was owing to the malice of a 
stronger king, from whose enchantments you have 
this instant freed me. What I have seen of you, and 
your conduct toward your wicked brothers, renders 
me willing to serve you ; therefore, attend to what 
I tell you. Whoever shall climb to the top of 
that mountain from which you see the Golden River 
issue, and shall cast into the stream at its source 
three drops of holy water, for him, and for him only, 
the river shall turn to gold. But no one failing in 
his first can succeed in a second attempt ; and if 
any one shall cast unholy water into the river it will 
overwhelm him, and he will become a black stone.” 
So saying, the King of the Golden River turned 
away and deliberately walked into the centre of the 
hottest flame of the furnace. His figure became 
red, white, transparent, dazzling, — a blaze of intense 


or. The Black Brothers. 31 

light — rose, trembled, and disappeared. The King 
of the Golden River had evaporated. 

“ Oh ! ” cried poor Gluck, running to look up 
the chimney after him ; “ oh dear, dear, dear me ! 
My mug ! my mug ! my mug ! ” 


CHAPTER III. 


How Mr. Hans set off on an Expedition to the Golden River ? 

AND HOW HE PROSPERED THEREIN. 

The King of the Golden River had hardly made 
the extraordinary exit related in the last chapter, 
before Hans and Schwartz came roaring into the 
house very savagely drunk. The discovery of the 
total loss of their last piece of plate had the effect 
of sobering them just enough to enable them to 
stand over Gluck, beating him very steadily for a 
quarter of an hour ; at the expiration of which period 
they dropped into a couple of chairs, and requested 
to know what he had got to say for himself. Gluck 
told them his story, of which, of course, they did 
not believe a word. They beat him again, till their 
arms were tired, and staggered to bed. In the 
morning, however, the steadiness with which he 
adhered to his story obtained him some degree of 
credence ; the immediate consequence of which was 
that the two brothers, after wrangling a long time 
on the knotty question, Which of them should try 
his fortune first, drew their swords and began fight- 
ing. The noise of the fray alarmed the neighbors, 
who, finding they could not pacify the combatants, 
sent for the constable. 


3 2 


The King of the Golden River. 


33 


On hearing this, Hans contrived to escape, and 
hid himself; but Schwartz was taken before the 
magistrate, fined for breaking the peace, and having 
drunk out his last penny the evening before, was 
thrown into prison till he should pay. 

When Hans heard this, he was much delighted, 
and determined to set out immediately for the 
Golden River. How to get the holy water was 
the question. He went to the priest, but the priest 
could not give any holy water to so abandoned a 
character. So Hans went to vespers in the even- 
ing for the first time in his life, and, under pretence 
of crossing himself, stole a cupful and returned 
home in triumph. 

Next morning he got up before the sun rose, 
put the holy water into a strong flask, and two 
bottles of wine and some meat in a basket, slung 
them over his back, took his alpine staff in his 
hand, and set off for the mountains. 

On his way out of the town he had to pass the 
prison, and as he looked in at the windows, whom 
should he see but Schwartz himself peeping out of 
the bars, and looking very disconsolate. 

“ Good morning, brother,” said Hans ; “ have you 
any message for the King of the Golden River?” 

Schwartz gnashed his teeth with rage, and shook 
the bars with all his strength ; but Hans only 
laughed at him, and advising him to make himself 
comfortable till he came back again, shouldered his 


34 The King of the Golden River; 

basket, shook the bottle of holy water in Schwartz’s 
face till it frothed again, and marched off in the 
highest spirits in the world. 

It was indeed a morning that might have made 
any one happy, even with no Golden River to seek 
for. Level lines of dewy mist lay stretched along 



‘“Good morning, brother.’” 


the valley, out of which rose the massy mountains 
— their lower cliffs in pale gray shadow, hardly dis- 
tinguishable from the floating vapor, but gradually 
ascending till they caught the sunlight, which ran 
in sharp touches of ruddy color along the angular 
crags, and pierced, in long level rays, through their 
fringes of spear-like pine. Far above, shot up red 


or, The Black Brothers. 


35 


splintered masses of cas- 
tellated rock, jagged and 
shivered into myriads of 
fantastic forms, with here 
and there a streak of 
sunlit snow, traced down 
their chasms like a line 
of forked lightning; and 
far beyond and above all 
these, fainter than the 
morning cloud, but purer 
and changeless, slept in 
the blue sky the utmost 
peaks of the eternal snow. 

The Golden River, 
which sprang from one 
of the lower and snow- 
less elevations, was now 
nearly in shadow ; all 
but the uppermost jets 
of spray, which rose like 
slow smoke above the 
undulating line of the 
cataract, and floated 
away in feeble wreaths 
upon the morning wind. 

On this object, and on 
this alone, Hans’ eyes 
and thoughts were fixed. 



36 The King of the Golden River; 

Forgetting the distance he had to traverse, he set 
off at an imprudent rate of walking, which greatly 
exhausted him before he had scaled the first range 
of the green and low hills. He was, moreover, 
surprised, on surmounting them, to find that a large 
glacier, of whose existence, notwithstanding his pre- 
vious knowledge of the mountains, he had been 
absolutely ignorant, lay between him and the source 
of the Golden River. He mounted it though, with 
the boldness of a practised mountaineer; yet he 
thought he had never in his life traversed so strange 
or so dangerous a glacier. The ice was excessively 
slippery, and out of all its chasms came wild sounds 
of gushing water; not monotonous or low, but 
changeful and loud, rising occasionally into drifting 
passages of wild melody, then breaking off into short 
melancholy tones, or sudden shrieks, resembling 
those of human voices in distress or pain. The ice 
was broken into thousands of confused shapes, but 
none, Hans thought, like the ordinary forms of 
splintered ice. There seemed a curious expression 
about all their outlines — a perpetual resemblance 
to living features, distorted and scornful. Myriads 
of deceitful shadows, and lurid lights, played and 
floated about and through the pale blue pinnacles, 
dazzling and confusing the sight of the traveller; 
while his ears grew dull and his head giddy with 
the constant gush and roar of the concealed waters. 
These painful circumstances increased upon him as 


or, The Black Brothers. 


37 


he advanced ; the ice crashed and yawned into 
fresh chasms at his feet, tottering spires nodded 
around him, and fell thundering across his path ; 
and though he had repeatedly faced these dangers 
on the most terrific glaciers, and in the wildest 
weather, it was with a new and oppressive feeling 
of panic terror that he leaped the last chasm, and 
flung himself, exhausted and shuddering, on the 
firm turf of the mountain. 



He had been compelled to abandon his basket of 
food, which became a perilous incumbrance on the 
glacier, and had now no means of refreshing him- 
self but by breaking off and eating some of the 
pieces of ice. This, however, relieved his thirst ; 
an hour’s repose recruited his hardy frame, and 
with the indomitable spirit of avarice, he resumed 
his laborious journey. 


38 The King of the Golden River; 

His way now lay straight up a ridge of bare red 
rocks, without a blade of grass to ease the foot, or a 
projecting angle to afford an inch of shade from the 
south sun. It was past noon, and the rays beat 
intensely upon the steep path, while the whole atmos- 
phere was motionless and penetrated with heat. 
Intense thirst was soon added to the bodily fatigue 
with which Hans was now afflicted ; glance after 
glance he cast on the flask of water which hung at 
his belt. “ Three drops are enough,” at last thought 
he ; “I may at least cool my lips with it.” 

He opened the flask, and was raising it to his 
lips, when his eye fell on an object lying on the 
rock beside him ; he thought it moved. It was a 
small dog, apparently in the last agony of death 
from thirst. Its tongue was out, its jaws dry, its 
limbs extended lifelessly, and a swarm of black ants 
were crawling about its lips and throat. Its eye 
moved to the bottle which Hans held in his hand. 
He raised it, drank, spurned the animal with his foot, 
and passed on. And he did not know how it was, 
but he thought that a strange shadow had suddenly 
come across the blue sky. 

The path became steeper and more rugged every 
moment ; and the high hill air, instead of refreshing 
him, seemed to throw his blood into a fever. The 
noise of the hill cataracts sounded like mockery in 
his ears; they were all distant, and his thirst 
increased every moment. Another hour passed, 












% 

















or, The Black Brothers. 41 

and he again looked down to the flask at his side ; 
it was half empty, but there was much more than 
three drops in it. He stopped to open it and 
again, as he did so, something moved in the path 
above him. It was a fair child, stretched nearly 
lifeless on the rock, its breast heaving with thirst, 
its eyes closed, and its lips parched and burning. 
Hans eyed it deliberately, drank, and passed on. 
And a dark gray cloud came over the sun, and 
long, snake-like shadows crept up along the moun- 
tain-sides. Hans struggled on. The sun was 
sinking, but its descent seemed to bring no cool- 
ness ; the leaden weight of the dead air pressed 
upon his brow and heart, but the goal was near. 
He saw the cataract of the Golden River springing 
from the hill-side, scarcely five hundred feet above 
him. He paused for a moment to breathe, and 
sprang on to complete his task. 

At this instant a faint cry fell on his ear. He 
turned, and saw a gray-haired old man extended on 
the rocks. His eyes were sunk, his features deadly 
pale, and gathered into an expression of despair. 
“ Water! ” he stretched his arms to Hans, and cried 
feebly, “ Water ! I am dying.” 

“ I have none,” replied Hans ; “ thou hast had thy 
share of life.” He strode over the prostrate body, 
and darted on. And a flash of blue lightning rose 
out of the East, shaped like a sword; it shook 
thrice over the whole heaven, and left it dark with 


42 The King of the Golden River. 

one heavy impenetrable shade. The sun was set- 
ting ; it plunged towards the horizon like a red-hot 
ball. 

The roar of the Golden River rose on Hans’ ear. 
He stood at the brink of the chasm through which 
it ran. Its waves were filled with the red glory of 
the sunset : they shook their crests like tongues of 
fire, and flashes of bloody light gleamed along their 
foam. Their sound came mightier and mightier 
on his senses ; his brain grew giddy with the pro- 
longed thunder. Shuddering, he drew the flask 
from his girdle and hurled it into the centre of the 
torrent. As he did so, an icy chill shot through 
his limbs: he staggered, shrieked, and fell. The 
waters closed over his cry. And the moaning of 
the river rose wildly into the night, as it gushed 
over 


The Black Stone. 


CHAPTER IV. 


How Mr. Schwartz set off on an Expedition to the Golden 
River, and how he prospered therein. 

Poor little Gluck waited very anxiously alone in 
the house for Hans’ return. Finding he did not 
come back, he was terribly frightened, and went 
and told Schwartz in the prison all that had hap- 
pened. Then Schwartz was very much pleased, 
and said that Hans must certainly have been turned 
into a black stone, and he should have all the gold 
to himself. But Gluck was very sorry, and cried all 
night. When he got up in the morning there was 
no bread in the house, nor any money ; so Gluck 
went and hired himself to another goldsmith, and 
he worked so hard and so neatly and so long every 
day, that he soon got money enough together to 
pay his brother’s fine. He went then and gave it 
all to Schwartz, and Schwartz got out of prison. 
Then Schwartz was quite pleased, and said he 
should have some of the gold of the river. But 
Gluck only begged he would go and see what had 
become of Hans. 

Now when Schwartz had heard that Hans had 
stolen the holy water, he thought to himself that 
43 


44 The King of the Golden River ; 

such a proceeding might not be considered alto- 
gether correct by the King of the Golden River, 
and he determined to manage matters better. So 
he took some more of Gluck’s money, and went 
to a bad priest, who gave him some holy water 
very readily for it. Then Schwartz was sure it 
was all quite right. He got up early in the 
morning before the sun rose, took some bread 
and wine in a basket, put his holy water in a 
flask, and set off for the mountains. Like his 
brother, he was much surprised at the sight of the 
glacier, and had great difficulty in crossing it, even 
after leaving his basket behind him. The day was 
cloudless, but not bright: there was a heavy purple 
haze hanging over the sky, and the hills looked 
lowering and gloomy. And as Schwartz climbed 
the steep rock path the thirst came upon him, as it 
had upon his brother, until he lifted his flask to his 
lips to drink. Then he saw the fair child lying 
near him on the rocks, and it cried to him, and 
moaned for water. 

“ Water, indeed,” said Schwartz; “ I haven’t half 
enough for myself,” and passed on. As he went 
he thought the sunbeams grew more dim, and he 
saw a low bank of black cloud rising out of the West. 
When he had climbed for another hour the thirst 
overcame him again, and he would have drunk. 
Then he saw the old man lying before him on the 
path, and heard him cry out for water. “Water, 


or, The Black Brothers. 45 

indeed,” said Schwartz ; “ I haven’t half enough for 
myself,” and on he went. 

Then again the light seemed to fade from before 
his eyes, and he looked up, and, behold, a mist, 
of the color of blood, had come over the sun. 
The bank of black cloud too had risen very high, 
and its edges were tossing and tumbling like the 
waves of the angry sea. And they cast long 
shadows, which flickered over Schwartz’s path. 

Then Schwartz climbed for another hour, and 
again his thirst returned. As he lifted his flask 
to his lips, he thought he saw his brother Hans 
lying exhausted on the path before him, and, as he 
gazed, the figure stretched its arms to him, and 
cried for water. “ Ha, ha,” laughed Schwartz, 
“ are you there ? remember the prison bars, my 
boy. Water, indeed! do you suppose I carried 
it all the way up here for you ! ” And he strode 
over the figure ; yet, as he passed, he thought he 
saw a strange expression of mockery about its lips. 
When he had gone a few yards farther he looked 
back ; but the figure was not there. 

A sudden horror came over Schwartz, he knew 
not why ; but the thirst for gold prevailed over his 
fear, and he rushed on. The bank of black cloud 
rose to the zenith, and out of it came bursts of spiry 
lightning, and waves of darkness seemed to heave 
and float between their flashes over the whole 
heavens. The sky where the sun was setting was 


46 The King of the Golden River. 

all level, like a lake of blood ; and a strong wind 
came out of that sky, tearing its crimson clouds into 
fragments, and scattering them far into the dark- 
ness. And when Schwartz , stood by the brink of 
the Golden River, its waves were black, like thunder 
clouds, but their foam was like fire ; and the roar of 
the waters below, and the thunder above, met as he- 
cast the flask into the stream. As he did so the 
lightning glared into his eyes, the earth gave way 
beneath him, and the waters closed over his cry. 
And the moaning of the river rose wildly into the 
night, as it gushed over the 


Two Black Stones. 



“A SUDDEN HORROR CAME OVER SCHWARTZ." 










CHAPTER V. 


How little Gluck set off on an Expedition to the Golden 
River, and how he prospered therein ; with other Matters 
of Interest. 

When Gluck found that Schwartz did not come 
back he was very sorry, and did not know what to 
do. He had no money, so he was obliged to go and 
hire himself again to the goldsmith, who worked him 
very hard, and gave him very little money. After a 
month or two, Gluck grew tired, and made up his 
mind to go and try his fortune with the Golden 
River. “ The little king looked very kind,” thought 
he. “ I don’t think he will turn me into a black 
stone.” So he went to the priest, and the priest 
gave him some holy water as soon as he asked for 
it. Then Gluck took some bread in his basket, and 
the bottle of water, and set off very early for the 
mountains. 

If the glacier had occasioned a great deal of 
fatigue to his brothers, it was twenty times worse 
for him, who was neither so strong nor so practised 
on the mountains. He had several bad falls, lost 
his basket and bread, and was very much frightened 
at the strange noises under the ice. He lay a long 
time to rest on the grass, after he had crossed over, 


49 


5 ° 


The King of the Golden River; 

and began to climb the hill just in the hottest part 
of the day. When he had climbed for an hour, he 
became dreadfully thirsty, and was going to drink 
as his brothers had done, when he saw an old man 
coming down the path above him, looking very feeble, 
and leaning on a staff. “ My son,” said the old man, 



“He went to the priest.” 


“ I am faint with thirst ; give me some of that water.” 
Then Gluck looked at him, and when he saw that 
he was pale and weary, he gave him the water ; 
“ Only pray don’t drink it all,” said Gluck. But the 
old man drank a great deal, and gave him back the 
bottle two-thirds empty. Then he bade him good 
speed, and Gluck went on again merrily. The path 


or. The Black Brothers. 51 

became easier to his feet, and two or three blades 
of grass appeared upon it ; some grasshoppers 
began singing on the bank beside it, and Gluck 
thought he had never heard such merry singing. 

Then he went on for another hour, and the thirst 
increased on him so that he thought he should be 
forced to drink. But as he raised the flask he saw 
a little child lying panting by the roadside, and it cried 
out piteously for water. Gluck struggled with him- 
self, and determined to bear the thirst a little longer; 
and he put the bottle to the child’s lips, and it drank 
it all but a few drops. Having done this it smiled 
on him, and got up, and ran down the hill ; and 
Gluck looked after it, till it became as small as a 
little star. He then turned and began climbing 
again. And behold there were all kinds of sweet 
flowers growing on the rocks, bright green moss, 
with pale pink starry flowers, and soft belled gentians 
more blue than the sky at its deepest, and pure 
white transparent lilies. Crimson and purple 
butterflies darted hither and thither, and the sky 
sent down such pure light that Gluck had never felt 
so happy in his life. 

Yet after he had climbed for another hour, his 
thirst became intolerable again ; and when he 
looked at his bottle he saw that there were only five 
or six drops left in it, and he could not venture to 
drink. But just as he was hanging the flask to his 
belt again, he saw a little dog lying on the rocks, 


52 The King of the Golden River; 

gasping for breath — precisely as Hans had seen it 
on the day of his ascent. Gluck stopped and looked 
at it, and then at the Golden River, not five hundred 
yards above him ; and he thought of the dwarfs 
words, “ that no one could succeed, except in his 
first attempt.” He tried to pass the dog, but it 
whined piteously, and he stopped again. “ Poor 
beastie,” said Gluck, “ it’ll be dead when I come 
down again, if I don’t help it.” Then he looked 
closer and closer at it, and its eye turned on him so 
mournfully, that he could not stand it. “ Confound 
the King and his gold too,” said Gluck; and he 
opened the flask, and poured all the water into the 
dog’s mouth. 

The dog sprang up and stood on its hind legs. 
Its tail disappeared, its ears became long, longer, silky, 
golden ; its nose became very red, its eyes became 
very twinkling; in three seconds the dog was gone, 
and before Gluck stood his old acquaintance, the 
King of the Golden River. 

“ Thank you,” said the monarch ; “ but don’t be 
frightened, it’s all right ; ” for Gluck showed manifest 
symptoms of consternation at this unlooked-for reply 
to his last observation. “ Why didn’t you come be- 
fore,” continued the dwarf, “ instead of sending me 
those rascally brothers of yours, for me to have 
the trouble of turning into stones ? Very hard stones 
they make, too.” 

“ Oh dear me ! ” said Gluck, “ have you really 
been so cruel ? ” 







“ * Thank you,’ said the monarch. 




































































> 















- 




















































































































or, The Black Brothers. 


55 


“ Cruel !” said the dwarf; “they poured unholy 
water into my stream : do you suppose I’m going to 
allow that ? ” 

“Why,” said Gluck' “I am sure, sir — your Maj- 
esty, I mean — they got the water out of the church 
font.” 

“Very probably,” replied the dwarf; “but,” and 
his countenance grew stern as he spoke, “ the water 
which has been refused to the cry of the weary and 
dying, is unholy, though it had been blessed by 
every saint in heaven ; and the water which is found 
in the vessel of mercy is holy, though it had been 
defiled with corpses.” 

So saying, the dwarf stooped and plucked a lily 
that grew at his feet. On its white leaves there 
hung three drops of clear dew. And the dwarf 
shook them into the flask which Gluck held in his 
hand. “ Cast these into the river,” he said, “ and 
descend on the other side of the mountains into the 
Treasure Valley. And so good speed.” 

As he spoke, the figure of the dwarf became in- 
distinct. The playing colors of his robe formed 
themselves into a prismatic mist of dewy light ; he 
stood for an instant veiled with them as with the 
belt of a broad rainbow. The colors grew faint, the 
mist rose into the air ; the monarch had evaporated. 

And Gluck climbed to the brink of the Golden 
River; its waves were as clear as crystal, and as 
brilliant as the sun. When he cast the three drops 


l.-fC* 


56 The King of the Golden River; 

of dew into the stream, there opened where they 
fell a small circular whirlpool, into which the waters 
descended with a musical noise. 

Gluck stood watching it for some time, very much 
disappointed, because not only the river was not turned 
into gold, but its waters seemed much diminished 
in quantity. Yet he obeyed his friend the dwarf, 
and descended the other side of the mountains 
towards the Treasure Valley; and, as he went, he 
thought he heard the noise of water working its way 
under the ground. Now, when he came in sight of 
the Treasure Valley, behold, a river, like the Golden 
River, was springing from a new cleft of the rocks 
above it, and was flowing in innumerable streams 
among the dry heaps of red sand. 

As Gluck gazed, fresh grass sprang beside the 
new streams, and creeping plants grew and climbed 
among the moistening soil. Young flowers opened 
suddenly along the river sides, as stars leap out when 
twilight is deepening, and thickets of myrtle and ten- 
drils of vine cast lengthening shadows over the .val- 
ley as they grew. And thus the Treasure Valley 
became a garden again, and the inheritance which 
had been lost by cruelty was regained by love. 

And Gluck went and dwelt in the valley, and 
the poor were never driven from his door: so 
that his barns became full of corn, and his house of 
treasure. For him the river had, according to the 
dwarf’s promise, become a River of Gold. 


or, The Black Brothers. 


57 


And to this day the inhabitants of the valley 
point out the place where the three drops of holy 
dew were cast into the stream, and trace the course 
of the Golden River under the ground, until it 
emerges in the Treasure Valley. And at the top 
of the cataract of the Golden River are still to be 
seen two black stones, round which the waters 
howl mournfully every day at sunset ; and these 
stones are still called by the people of the valley 


The Black Brothers. 


John Ruskin, an eloquent and original writer on all matters 
connected with art, and an earnest preacher of ennobling doctrines 
for the guidance of life, was born in London, 1819, and died at 
his home in Westmoreland in 1900. Perhaps the most charming 
autobiography in any language is his “ Praeterita,” and the reader 
who wishes to learn what manner of man he was should go to these 
volumes : they will inspire a desire to know more of the man and 
his works. Whether they deal with art, such as his “ Moderh 
Painters,” “ The Seven Lamps of Architecture,” or “ The Stones 
of Venice,” or with subjects of social, moral, and religious import, 
they are written with such truth and conviction, in such an engag- 
ing style and in such choice English, that they cannot fail to 
uplift and charm. They have exercised great influence all over 
the civilized world, and the work of Ruskin has done much to 
vivify ideals of life, inculcate high standards of conduct, and to 
bring sweetness and light into many lives that would otherwise 
have been dull and gray. 

“ The King of the Golden River ” is the only book by Ruskin 
directly addressed to the very little ones, though he has written 
much for the older boys and girls. 


Heath’s Home and School Classics. 


THE YOUNG READER’S SERIES (Illustrated), 


These books are suited for the reading of boys and girls from 10 or 
12 to 15 or 16 years of age, and may by used as supplementary 
reading books in the second half of the School Course. 


Brown’s Rab and His Friends and Stories of Our Dogs. By Dr. 

John Brown. Edited by Thomas M. Balliet. 

Defoe’s Robinson Crusoe. By Daniel Defoe. Edited by the 
Rev. Edward Everett Hale. 




FouquS’s Undine. By De la Motte Fouque. With an introduc- 
tion by Mrs. Elizabeth Stuart Phelps Ward, 15 cents. 
Gulliver’s Travels. I. A Voyage to Lilliput. Edited by Thomas' 
M. Balliet, Supt. of Schools, Springfield, Mass. 15 cents. 

Gulliver’s Travels. II. A Voyage to Brobdingnag, 15 cents. 

Hamerton’s Chapter on Animals — -Dogs, Cats and Horses. By P. 

G. Hamerton. Edited by Professor W. P. Trent, 15 cents., 
Irving’s Dolph Heyliger. By Washington Irving. Edited by G> 

H. Browne. 

Lamb’s The Adventures of Ulysses. By Charles Lamb. Edited 
by Professor W. P. Trent. Illust. after Flaxman, 15 cents. 
Lamb’s Tales from Shakespeare by Charles and Mary Lamb. Intro- 
duction by Mrs. Elizabeth Stuart Phelps Ward. Part I. 

. 1 j cents. 

Lamb’s Tales from Shakespeare by Charles and Mary Lamb. 

Part II . . . . . . . 15 cents. 

Martineau’s The Crofton Boys. By Harriet Martineau, Edited 
by the Rev. W. Elliot Griffis. Part I . 10 cents. 

Martineau’s The Crofton Boys. Part II . 10 cents. 

Melville’s Typee. A Real Romance of the South Seas. By Herman 
Melville. Edited by Prof. W. P. Trent. Parti, 1.5 cents. 
Melville’s Typee. A Real Romance of the South Seas. Part II. 

15 cents. 

Motley’s The Siege of Leyden. From Motley’s “Rise of the Dutch 
Republic.” Edited by the Rev. W. Elliot Griffis, 10 cents. 
Shakespeare’s The Tempest. Edited by Sarah Willard Hiestand. 

Illustrations after Retzsch, portrait by Chandos . 15 cents. 

Shakespeare’s A Midsummer Night’s Dream. Edited by Sarah 
Willard Hiestand. Illustrations after Sir R. Smirke, and the 
Droeshont portrait , . . , .15 cents. 


D. C. HEATH & CO. Publishers, Boston, U. S. A. 



